The Olympian

he was astounding. his ability to face down all odds, pull forward and make that final push to glory...
Phelps was good too.

My grandfather, on the other hand has made me realize what it means to be an Olympian. At this moment, he is in a hospital, suffering from heart complications and kidney failure. Last winter, he was also in the hospital, and my family was preparing to say goodbye. He pulled through. I'm convinced that it was because of the support and love of everyone around him, and the distant support and love of those who were not, that helped him recover. A cheering crowd can do wonders for someone who wants something badly enough.

My grandfather is dying. I don't know what will happen, but I know that I'm having a harder time dealing with this bout.
Maybe it's because I can't imagine the world without him. My world. He's been a constant inspiration to me, for as long as I can remember. He helped found the first penicillin factory in Pakistan. He's traveled the world. He's taught. He's healed. He's raised my mother and my aunt and uncles to be equally admirable people, in their own right. He's lived a full life. I am completely dumbfounded that the man who lovingly refers to me as "oolti copri," might not exist in this world for much longer. He should get a medal.

I was watching Michael Phelps and the American swim team declare to the world that they are, indeed, part fish. It was, and continues to be, thoroughly magical to see these athletes do what they do best, in front of the whole world. I wish my grandfather had been given such a chance. Maybe he will pull through. If that happens, I will have a medal for him, and a song to make his heart fill with joy.